How the Mighty Have Fallen: Deleted Scenes
by MistakenMagic
Summary: "Hey, lay off, alright? It was Loki's idea to watch 'Twilight' anyway," Tony muttered. A collection of deleted and alternate scenes including an alternate ending from my Loki/Natasha story, 'How the Mighty Have Fallen'.
1. Part One

**A/N: Hey guys! Here is Part One of the collection of deleted scenes from my fic 'How the Mighty Have Fallen'. The collection includes 'deleted' and 'alternate' scenes; deleted scenes can be inserted into the original plotline of the fic, but alternate scenes are AU to the HtMHF-verse! I should clarify that the majority of these scenes weren't actively cut from the story, they were just ideas that came to me after the chapters were posted, and a few are requests from readers. I really hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them!**

**Disclaimer: Marvel owns everything.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Deleted Scene**

Once she had finished suturing the wound on Loki's forehead, Natasha turned her attention to the cut that sliced across the bridge of his nose. Carefully cleaning it with dabs of anti-septic she frowned; it looked somehow familiar. Looking up, she found Bruce watching her. "This cut..." she murmured, unsure of how to continue.

"Yeah," Bruce said sheepishly. "I think that might have been me."

* * *

**Chapter Five: Deleted Scene**

Clint liked to use soft-bodied dummies for target practice. The cardboard cut-outs Tasha used and the plastic mannequins Tony was fond of just couldn't provide the same satisfaction as an arrow piercing right through the fleshy material of his dummies. And it was proving particularly satisfying this morning. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and, drawing back his bowstring, took aim. He wasn't using explosive tips today; just the extra sharp, poison dart-like heads that cut through the dummies like a knife through butter. He narrowed his eyes at the target and flexed a couple of fingers around the fletching of his arrow.

"Having fun?"

The arrow flew from Clint's bow and missed the target by three inches, lodging in the wall behind it. "Goddammit, Tony!" he growled; he didn't have to turn to know the genius-billionaire-whatever was standing up on the balcony to his right. He pulled another arrow from his quiver. "What do you want?"

Clint rarely had visitors during target practice; most of Stark Tower's inhabitants knew better than to disturb him here. But, of course, it came as no surprise that Tony Stark didn't know better. He wasn't sure why Tony had turned up; he was probably bored and wanted to stir up some trouble, or no one else was giving him enough attention so he was wandering from room to room, forcing himself on people. But obviously no one was in their rooms; they were all in that damn lab forming a harem around that lunatic...

"Is that one of Natasha's espionage wigs?"

Clint kept his eyes focused on his target... which was indeed wearing a mop of jet black, shoulder-length hair that he'd borrowed from Natasha's mission closet that morning. "Well, I always thought the freak had girl hair anyway," he muttered.

"If you want I can steal the charred remains of clothing Bruce and Natasha peeled off him yesterday so you can dress him up a bit?"

"Go back to your chemistry set, Stark." Clint let loose his second arrow; it soared in a high arc then dropped down and stabbed the dummy right between the eyes.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Deleted Scene**

Natasha and Bruce were standing by the lounge doors like two parents reluctant to leave their child in the hands of an incompetent baby-sitter. They were leaving Loki in the care of Tony, Thor and Steve for the night so they could both get some much-needed sleep. Natasha was exhausted, but still the glint in Tony's eye unsettled her and Bruce clearly shared her unease. It didn't help that out of the three, Tony was the most qualified to deal with an emergency.

"So don't touch his IVs... don't try and update or enhance his monitors... don't mess with his medication... In fact, just don't touch anything, OK?" Bruce said firmly. "But _do_ come and get me or page Natasha if anything happens."

"Cool, cool... So, are there any TV channels he can't watch or...?" Tony grinned.

Bruce returned a bemused expression.

"One last question," Tony added. "Can I wear your stethoscope?"

"OK, you know what, I'm not that tired. I think I'll stay..."

Natasha put a comforting hand on Bruce's arm. "Bruce, they'll be fine... Come on, go and get some sleep."

Bruce looked exasperatedly from Tony to Natasha and sighed. "Fine. But Tony, if you draw anything on his face in Sharpie, so help me God, you will not live to see the light of day!"

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Deleted Scene**

Natasha returned from the bathroom to the sound of a low, constant rumbling like approaching thunder followed by several metallic clangs. She found Bruce on his hands and knees in the kitchenette, rooting through the cupboard next to the sink.

"Bruce, you OK?" she asked carefully.

The doctor pulled his head out of the cupboard and turned to her. "I can't find the filter holder for the coffee machine."

"It's in the sink," Natasha said, folding her arms across her chest as Bruce got to his feet. She glanced towards the lab doors. "Everything OK with our patient?"

"Did you know I didn't learn to swim until I was fourteen?" Bruce said, frowning. "Or that I first skipped school when I was ten and I broke my arm falling off a wall in an industrial park?"

"I don't follow," Natasha murmured, raising an eyebrow.

"I tried to question Loki about the Chitauri and I ended up telling him every insignificant detail of my life story!"

"Skipping school is pretty significant," Natasha said with a smirk. "In fact, Bruce, I'm shocked!"

Bruce gave her a withering look. "Can't you go and give it a try? Get him figured out?"

"I'm a spy, not a shrink!"

"No, but Loki thinks _he_ is... Go and beat him at his own game, would you? You're good at that."

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Alternate Scene**

"I'm not even going to ask why you have this on DVD," Dr. Banner said, begrudgingly pulling up a stool at Thor's side as Tony set up the DVD player, hooking it up to the projector.

"It's not mine, it's Pepper's!" Tony replied, unphased, as a large screen materialised, suspended over the edge of Loki's bed.

"Yes, but _you_ bought me it for Valentine's Day!" Pepper said with a rueful smile.

"Christ, I hope he bought you something else as well," the doctor grinned.

"Hey, lay off, alright? It was Loki's idea to watch 'Twilight' anyway," Tony muttered as the interactive menu appeared on the screen.

All eyes were suddenly on the so-far silent God of Mischief, sitting propped up in his pillows between them. "It was just something Agent Romanoff said," Loki explained quietly, purposefully avoiding Natasha's first name in a somewhat vain attempt to evade a sense of familiarity. "I was curious." Now he was trying not to picture her sitting with Barton in that beautiful blue dress which left the exquisite curve of her pale back exposed...

"Well, it's an excellent movie for a drinking game!" Tony said cheerfully, dragging Loki from his reverie. He took a seat next to Pepper and produced a metal hip flask (with his initials engraved on it) from his pants pocket. "You got a few glasses, Doc?"

"We're not playing drinking games, Tony," Dr. Banner said wearily.

"OK, rules," Tony continued, ignoring him and the despairing looks from Pepper. "Drink two fingers whenever Edward does something creepy... Drink one finger whenever Charlie looks awkward... Drink one finger whenever Bella bites her lip... Down your drink whenever Bella's facial expression changes... Wait..."

"Can we just get this over and done with?" Pepper sighed, running a hand through her hair.

There was a murmur of agreement, so Tony, flask in hand, got up and hit 'play'.

* * *

"_You like purple right...?"_

"Drink!" Tony took a generous gulp from his flask.

"Her father, he bears quite a resemblance to you, Tony," Thor commented, and Pepper had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Nah," Tony said, taking another swig. "He looks more like my dad."

"But you look just like your dad," Steve said, with a grin.

* * *

"_How old are you?"_

"_Seventeen."_

"_How long have you been seventeen?"_

"_A while."_

"Tony, stop mouthing along!"

"What? This is the best part!"

"_Say it... Out loud. Say it."_

"_Vampire."_

"Wait! What? That guy is a vampire?"

"Seriously, Steve?"

"I thought this was a chick flick?"

"It is... But with vampires. And hey, Edward is a hundred-year-old virgin, so there's hope for you yet, Cap!"

"Steve, sit down! Tony, shut up!"

* * *

"_Hold on tight, spider monkey!"_

"Spider monkey?"

"I don't understand that reference."

"No one does, Steve."

* * *

"_How come I end up where I started? How come I end up where I went wrong?"_

A row of confused faces stared at the screen, all with at least one eyebrow raised.

It appears Natasha's referring to me as Edward was quite the insult, Loki mused, I will have to get her back for that. "Well, if that film had a moral, I have to say it was lost on me," he said softly, as the credits began to roll.

"Stalk the girl to the edge of a restraining order and she'll love you forever?" Dr. Banner offered.

"It doesn't matter how many people your boyfriend's killed as long as he's beautiful?" Pepper added, turning to Tony her grin faded. "Oh, for God's sake, Tony!"

Tony was swaying on his stool with his mouth slightly agape and his eyes sliding out of focus. Pepper snatched the flask from his hand, shook it, and tipped it upside down; it was empty. A snore suddenly interrupted the bemused silence; Thor had fallen asleep half way through the movie and Loki was pretending not to notice that his brother's head had drooped onto his pillow.

He was now trapped between the snoring Thor and a drunken Tony. Perhaps it was this feeling of awkwardness that made him say: "I can understand why their date was disastrous. I hope this one is faring better."

The raised eyebrows were all suddenly directed at him. He hadn't meant to voice that thought and he knew they were all aware whom he was referring to... And, obviously, the comment hadn't been sincere either. He rather hoped Barton had drowned in his soup, because... Well, he didn't want to dwell on that.

"OK," Pepper said, drawing out the second syllable. "I'm going to put Tony to bed." She stood up and pulled Tony to his feet. "Night everyone."

There were murmured replies of "Good night".

Tony slung his arm around Pepper's shoulder with a hiccup. "Hold on tight... spiderrr monkey," he slurred into her ear.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Alternate Scene**

"So, how is our resident megalomaniac?" Clint asked, reaching over the table to stab his spoon through the sugar crust of Natasha's crème brûlée.

Natasha stared at him as he leant back in his chair with half her dessert loaded onto his spoon. She had to admit she was surprised it had taken them three courses to get onto the subject of Loki, but maybe the amount of red wine Clint had been knocking back had something to do with that. When they'd ordered dessert she'd felt a flicker of hope that they would make it through the evening without straying into dangerous territory. I should be so lucky, Natasha thought miserably... And there it was again: the desire to return to Stark Tower, to be eating Chinese food out of a box with Bruce and talking with Loki. At least that conversation would be less of an uphill battle.

"Don't call him that," she said quietly, avoiding Clint's gaze and looking into the gaping crater of her dessert.

"Why not?" Clint demanded irritably. "The guy is shady as fuck. He's a psychiatrist's wet dream."

"Tell me, do you think up these insults off the top of your head or do you have a pre-prepared list you select from?"

Clint stared at her, his blue eyes steely. "I'm going to order more wine," he said, his voice flat.

He turned to the pretty, dark-haired waitress at a neighbouring table and his whole demeanour changed; his eyes softened and he gave her a wide, charming smile. Natasha rolled her eyes. She had clocked all the men in the restaurant who had given her a once over (most more than once) and could easily meet their eye with a sultry, inviting look, but she decided not to stoop to Clint's level.

Clint tore his eyes away from the waitress to look back at Natasha as if she was a consolation prize. Despite everything, Natasha attempted a smile. "Let's talk about something else, shall we?"

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Deleted Scene**

The sickening crack sounded dangerously close, but it wasn't until he was thrown backwards that Loki realised the sound had come from him. As he landed flat on his back, the razor-sharp stones digging into his skin like knives, pain erupted in his chest, consuming his torso with a burning ache previously unknown to him. He realised his ribs were broken... Despite his brother's best efforts, he had never broken a bone before and this horrendous, fiery pain made his stomach heave. He tried desperately to roll onto his side, knowing he was going to throw up.

The blood trickling from the gaping wound that seemed to slice his forehead in two had run down his cheek and into his mouth; it tasted foul and nauseatingly metallic on his tongue. He spat blood into the dust as he hauled his broken body to the side, and cried out. He had been so distracted by the pain in his chest that he hadn't thought about which arm he was about to sink into the gravel; his right arm, covered in flaking, black burns from his last interrogation sizzled agonisingly in protest.

He jerked himself onto his back with another cry. The movement twisted his insides and he wretched repeatedly, but couldn't vomit; they hadn't fed him for days so his stomach was empty and had nothing to offer up. Footsteps suddenly sounded a few feet away and he heard the crunching of gravel and clank of Chitauri armour. One of the warriors appeared at his feet, the butt of his weapon raised, ready to deliver the final blow. Loki was staring up at him with a resigned, expectant look when a flash of black and red suddenly caught his eye... _Natasha_.

Natasha was sitting in the roughly carved stands of the rocky arena... Such a thing of beauty, she didn't belong in this barren, forsaken place and she wasn't safe here. "Natasha," he croaked, the taste of blood still strong in his mouth. "Natasha!" he called louder. She stood up and he strained his eyes to try and make out her expression... He needed to get her out of here, maybe if he caused a distraction she could escape, but she had started to make her way down the stands towards him. "No! NATASHA!"

"Loki!" A male voice echoed around the walls of his mind and he couldn't place it. Perhaps it was Thor... "Loki, wake up!" A feeling of heaviness crashed down on him and he was falling, falling into the floor...

Loki's eyes flew open and were met by the bright lights of the laboratory. The man standing over him was neither Chitauri nor Thor; it was Dr. Banner. He was studying Loki with a scared expression, his brow furrowed.

"Doctor?" Loki murmured, wincing with the pain in his ribs. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. Banner took a long time to reply, but finally answered: "You were shouting in your sleep."

"Oh," Loki said, as flashes of his dream span in front of his eyes; he could still taste the blood in his mouth, but he kept a poker face. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow, making Loki bristle. It irritated him that everyone here seemed so surprised whenever he used any common courtesy. _I was raised in Asgard, not Muspelheim!_

Dr. Banner was looking increasingly uncomfortable. "Do you want me to page Natasha?" he asked quietly.

_Natasha_. She had been in his dream... He had wanted to protect her, and he was under no illusions now as to why that was. It was something that had been steadily growing within him, ever since that incident on the hellicarrier. "Thank you, for your cooperation": the trigger, and her presence over the past week had only cemented it. The way Thor had spoken over the centuries, it seemed women were supposed to induce insanity, but with Natasha it was different... His feelings for her made him feel, well, more _normal_. It was a spectacular regression to a time before the madness had taken over, when he felt he was still capable of warmth and affection for another being...

"Loki?" Dr. Banner said carefully, his brown eyes troubled.

"I don't wish to disturb her," Loki answered, trying to keep any flicker of emotion from his face. "You gave her the night off, remember?" He gave the doctor a small smile.

But Dr. Banner's expression remained concerned. His unease was starting to make Loki uneasy and he suspected there was something the doctor wasn't telling him. He had only had a few conversations with him without Natasha present, and he knew there was a reason for that; he obviously saw her as some sort of security blanket.

"I'll page Natasha," Dr. Banner said decisively, and before Loki could protest he had produced his pager and sent the message.

Loki looked away from him, feeling torn. If there was anyone he wanted to speak to at that moment, it was Natasha... In fact, for the past few days, she had been the only person he was interested in speaking to. But he also knew it was highly likely that he was interrupting something. As much as the thought of dragging her away from Barton filled him with a malevolent glee, he didn't want to upset her... But, of course, she might not answer Dr. Banner's page. That thought made his stomach sink and he mentally cursed himself and this ridiculous situation. He hadn't been this lovesick since... He would rather not think about that.

"What time is it?" Loki said softly, ever aware of the doctor hovering awkwardly but dutifully at his side.

"Almost three o'clock," Dr. Banner replied. "I can increase your sedative dosage just for tonight, if you want?"

Loki was about to answer when he heard the elevator chime and his heart leapt. Natasha appeared in her trademark black jacket and pants; he had half-expected her to still be wearing that divine blue dress. He smiled in greeting, but his smile immediately vanished as she stormed into the lab with a face like thunder: they had made a mistake.

"You paged me?" she said, her voice was icy and made him flinch.

"Yeah, just thought Loki could use some decent company," Dr. Banner replied, seemingly undeterred.

"Bruce, a word?" she growled, pointing to the lounge. She was yet to make eye contact with him.

The doctor followed her into the lounge with his tail between his legs. Loki kept his eyes focused on the glass in front of him, but he heard Natasha cry: "You paged me at three in the morning for no reason?" followed by: "I was in bed with Clint!" Her words cut right through him and made his chest ache... He told himself that was just due to his broken ribs. And this was getting tiresome, his pining for her... _She is Barton's, not yours, and never will be_...

Natasha and Dr. Banner were talking quietly now. He looked to the lounge doors just as she appeared; he met her gaze for a fraction of a second then looked away quickly, hoping the pain didn't show on his face. She walked towards the lab doors then stopped. Turning back to him, her whole face softened; her enchanting eyes - caught somewhere between blue and green - were shining... Now she looked sad, but not angry. He searched desperately for something to say to her, but words failed him as she walked towards the bed and pulled up a stool at his side.

* * *

**COMING UP in Part Two: Frigga questions Heimdall about how her youngest son is faring on Earth, more angst from Chapter Eleven, domestics and domestic Avengers, and Loki and Natasha get their own back on Tony for his 'morning after' routine!**


	2. Part Two

**A/N: Hey guys! A massive thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited – I've really missed hearing from you all. Here is Part Two of the collection, with an extra shot of angst!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Deleted Scene**

"Back again so soon, my queen?"

Heimdall's voice was deep and soft, with a touch of amusement. He didn't turn as Frigga slowly dismounted and gave her horse's muzzle a grateful pat; but, of course, he had known she was coming as soon as she had left the throne room.

Frigga went to join him at the very edge of the broken Bifrost – the bridge's severed lip was a chaos of glass-shards and snapped, electric-coloured veins, dangling into the abyss... The same abyss her youngest son had hurled himself into some time ago. She closed her eyes and saw herself hammering her fists into Odin's chest, struggling against his embrace as he tried to calm her. _"I told you! I told you this would happen if we kept secrets from him!"_

"How is he?" she whispered, turning her eyes on the gatekeeper and pulling down the silvery hood of her cloak.

Heimdall's bright, amber gaze dropped to some unseen point in the star-littered expanse below them, his brow furrowed in concentration. "He is in love with the mortal woman who is nursing him," he answered finally.

Frigga couldn't help but smile. Good, she thought. There were so many people who believed Loki was incapable of love – only hate. But she had always known – known that he might even have a larger capacity for it than his brother. He had always felt everything far more deeply than Thor, ever since they were children.

"And does she return his love?" she asked quietly.

"She belongs to another," came the aloof, rather dispassionate reply from the gatekeeper.

"She is a woman, not a possession," Frigga said sternly. "And you have not answered my question."

Heimdall appeared unmoved by her scolding, but nevertheless replied: "Yes, she does return his love... Only she does not know it yet."

_Some good news at last_. Frigga had visited Heimdall frequently after Loki had been stolen from his prison cell, hoping for a shred of comfort which the gatekeeper had been unable to give her until Loki was returned to Earth. Then she had come to him almost every day, usually in the evening, to hear of her son's progress. News of his horrific ordeal and injuries forced an ache right at her very core, but she felt he was in good hands with these mortals... especially this mortal woman. All she had ever wanted was for both her sons to be happy, and Loki's difficulties had broken her heart.

"What is he doing now? At this very moment?" she murmured, following Heimdall's gaze into the heart of the universe spread out at their feet.

"He is talking with the woman," Heimdall answered dutifully.

"I assume she has a name?"

"Natasha Romanoff."

"Natasha," Frigga repeated, with a smile. "A beautiful name... What do they speak of?"

"She is upset. He is trying to comfort her... He enjoys making her laugh and seeing what laughter does to her eyes."

"You appear quite taken with her yourself," Frigga commented wryly.

"She is a beautiful woman. Your orders to watch your son have proven quite satisfying for me." Heimdall's lips didn't twitch, but there was a smile dancing in the gold of his eyes.

"Then you shan't mind continuing your vigil," Frigga said, glancing behind her. "I should be returning. Goodnight, Heimdall."

"Goodnight, my queen," the gatekeeper replied, turning to watch Frigga mount her horse. "I will see you again tomorrow evening."

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Deleted Scene**

"What, dare I ask, is that contraption?" Loki asked with a laugh, when Natasha produced the stethoscope.

"A week surrounded by Stark technology and this is the thing you comment on?" Natasha sighed, popping the stethoscope into her ears. "It's called a stethoscope; we use it to listen to your heartbeat."

Loki eyed the stethoscope suspiciously. "It doesn't seem to fit somehow, with everything else."

"Well Bruce still likes to observe some medical traditions," Natasha replied, grinning. She moved to Loki's side. "OK, lie back."

Loki did so reluctantly and peered up at Natasha with concern, as if he thought she was about to stab him. She carefully lifted his pyjama top. "This will be quite cold," she murmured, placing the chest piece over his heart. Loki didn't flinch and she had a few suspicions as to why that was, but didn't comment. She listened to the soft thud of his heart; it sounded a little irregular and fainter than she'd expected... She would have to talk to Bruce about that. But she smiled as she withdrew the stethoscope.

Loki still didn't look convinced. "I don't understand why you require that to listen to my heartbeat... Wouldn't an ear to my chest suffice?"

Natasha had to stop herself from making a snide, borderline-flirtatious comment. To distract from her lack of poker face, she yanked the stethoscope from her ears and thrust it towards Loki. "Why don't you have a go?"

Loki looked from her to the stethoscope, arching an eyebrow. "Show me," he said finally.

Natasha carefully placed the stethoscope in his ears then slipped the chest piece inside her jacket. "There," she said quietly. "Hear it?"

The smile that sprang to Loki's lips told her he did, but the smile quickly vanished when he realised she was watching him with a smirk. A loud cough made them both jump. Natasha snatched the stethoscope from her jacket and turned to see Bruce standing there, arms folded.

"I'm not sure you quite understand how this nursing thing works, Natasha," he said, scrutinising them both. "You tend to check the patient's heartbeat, not the other way round."

"Loki was just curious," Natasha said defensively.

Bruce's cynical expression clearly said: 'I bet he was.' "Well, if you've finished playing 'doctors' I'll have that back." He held out his hand for the stethoscope and Loki handed it over without a word. Bruce slung it around his neck and disappeared back into the lounge. Natasha was sure she heard him mutter: "Give me strength..."

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Alternate Scene**

Natasha wrenched open the overnight bag she'd thrown onto her bed and moved around her room, stuffing it with the various items she pulled from her cupboard and chest of drawers. Her actions were not those of someone in a hurry, rather of someone in pain who is angry about feeling that pain. As she packed she pretended not to notice she was crying; the tears spilled, hot and unrelenting, down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away, because then she'd have to acknowledge their existence.

She wondered if a person had a quota for tears, and if they didn't cry for a decade the tears built up inside them, like water behind a dam. Now her dam had been burst and was crumbling into nothing. Her head was filled with images of Loki and Helheim and the empty, treacherous expanse of a Loki-less future. At that moment she would happily follow him into whatever abyss he was facing, whether it was Helheim or something much worse...

She moved to her dressing table and caught sight of herself in the mirror... She didn't recognise the woman who stared back. As she feared, her face was as red as her hair; her skin was enflamed and blotchy with tears. She sniffed to keep her nose from running. And then an uncontrollable, vicious anger suddenly welled up inside her, spreading from her chest like wildfire. She hated whatever force in the universe had landed her in this situation. She wanted to hate Loki for making her fall for him, but she couldn't hate him... Instead she hated herself for being this weak, for being unable to cope, for breaking this easily...

With a strangled roar she drew back her fist and slammed it into the mirror with horrifying force. The silver glass shattered on impact and huge, dagger-like shards rained onto the floor at her feet. Smaller, tear-shaped scraps fell after them in slow motion, as if the mirror itself was weeping. Natasha watched the mirror fall apart with disinterest, too lost in her own head to care; it was as if she was unaware she'd had anything to do with its destruction, like watching a star collapse in on itself.

But the sight of blood on her knuckles dragged her back to reality. Feeling light-headed and confused, she knelt down and tried to clear up the mess. She reached for the largest shard and had her whole hand wrapped around it when the pain hit. Releasing the shard with a cry, she fell back and only narrowly avoided hitting her head on the dressing table.

Suddenly three sharp knocks sounded. She looked to the door and froze, hardly daring to breathe. When she didn't answer there was another triplicate of knocks. Natasha tore her eyes away from the door and stared at her right hand where the shard had almost sliced her palm in two; blood was trickling from the deep cut and she knew she had to do something – put pressure on it, stop the blood flow, but she was paralysed with shock and felt somehow detached from herself.

"Natasha? Natasha, it's Steve... Is everything OK?"

_Steve?_ He must have heard the crash from his room. Natasha's mouth opened and shut, but no sound came out.

"Natasha, will you let me in, please?"

Her stomach twisted and she felt sick. The nausea was filling her mind with a thick, heavy fog. "Steve," she said weakly.

As if this was the magic word, her bedroom door opened. "Tony taught me how to override the door locks..." Steve froze at the sight of Natasha slumped on the floor, surrounded by shards of broken mirror, clutching her bleeding hand. "Jesus Christ!"

That's the first time I've ever him curse, Natasha thought vaguely as Steve rushed to her side, the door closing behind him. He knelt in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. "Natasha, look at me, what happened?"

"I'm... I'm sorry..." she whispered, peering up at him with huge, shining eyes.

"Oh God... OK... OK..." Steve leapt up and ran into her bathroom. He returned in an instant with a damp, ice-cold flannel. Sitting down at her side, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed the flannel to her hand, raising it up slightly to try and stem the flow of blood.

Natasha hunched her shoulders and began to shake with sobs, but Steve held her tighter. "Shhh..." he soothed. "It's OK... We're OK..."

Natasha closed her eyes and said nothing. She was glad it was Steve who had found her; anyone else would have carted her off, straight back to the lab – but he understood that was the last place she wanted to go right now.

"What can I do?" Steve murmured, and she was stunned to hear how choked he sounded, as if he was about to cry too. "What do you need?"

I need Loki to get better, Natasha thought, I need a miracle. "Just... Just tell me how Tony taught you... to override... the door locks..." she answered, between gasps; the next best thing to a miracle was a distraction.

"OK... Well, it's pretty much the only thing he's tried to teach me that's stuck... We were in his lab and..."

Natasha listened to the soft hum of Steve's voice and let everything else drain away into the floor beneath them... The fiery pain in her hand... The thick fog in her head... The thoughts of Loki and his fate... All drained away until she felt nothing at all.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Alternate Scene (Soundtrack: 'I Will Follow You into the Dark' – Death Cab for Cutie)**

The sofa let out a groan in protest as Natasha lurched bolt upright, throwing off her duvet, a sharp gasp stuck in her throat. She peered around the dark lounge and her eyes came to rest on Thor, lying on the sofa opposite hers. A snore told her that he was still asleep. With a sigh, she buried her face in her hands – the sweat was sticky against her palms – and a familiar sinking feeling returned to her stomach. And I used to be so relieved to wake from nightmares, Natasha thought miserably, if only reality wasn't worse than my dreams.

She slowly lay back down and pulled the duvet over her, rolling onto her side. But as soon as she shut her eyes flashes of her dream crowded in front of her closed lids, more vivid and real than ever before. She sat up again. Either she didn't sleep or when she did, she had nightmares – Bruce couldn't give her anything for those. Swinging her legs over the side of the sofa, she straightened up and stretched in a vain attempt at relieving the sickly feeling she'd been carrying around with her for days.

Padding towards the lab doors, she flinched when they opened with a sharp hiss; but Thor didn't stir. Entering the lab, she walked around to her usual spot at Loki's bedside, her bare feet slapping against the cold linoleum floor. When Loki first came to them, his sleeping patterns were so erratic that Bruce simply left the lab lights on all the time. But now Loki was sleeping through the night they always turned the lights off when they turned in. In the dark, Natasha could make out the god's pale features, looking peaceful and contented in sleep. She hoped that he, at least, was being spared the nightmares tonight.

The hard metal foot rest of the stool was freezing beneath her feet and, in only shorts and a tank top, Natasha was beginning to feel a chill, but she didn't care. She stayed perfectly still on the stool. Somehow watching Loki helped her clear her mind. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there when he stirred. Furrowing his brow and breathing deeply, he slowly opened his eyes and started on finding he had company.

"Natasha?" he murmured, his eyes straining to see her through the dark.

"Hey," Natasha said, sounding guilty. "Sorry if I startled you."

"Are you alright?" Loki asked, trying to pull himself up in his pillows, but Natasha put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"It's OK, please, go back to sleep... Pretend I'm not here."

The smirk on Loki's lips told her she was being ridiculous, but he settled back down all the same. "So... Just checking I'm still here?"

"Something like that," Natasha replied, with a half-hearted smile.

Loki reached out a hand, searching for Natasha's like a blind man. She laid it out for him to find and he grasped it tightly. "You're freezing!" he gasped.

"I'm... I'm fine," Natasha protested, pulling her hand away with a harsher movement than she'd intended.

Then, much to her surprise (and horror), Loki threw back his bed sheets and shifted over to one side. He stared at her expectantly.

"Erm... That's not gonna happen," Natasha said, raising an eyebrow as a list of disastrous consequences formed in her mind.

"I'm sure I can restrain myself," Loki said with a grin.

His humour at the situation irritated her and she sat stubbornly on her stool, refusing to move.

"Please, Natasha, I don't want you catching cold," he said softly.

He's the one who's dying and he's worried about _me_ getting a cold? Natasha thought bitterly. "I... I don't think the bed will support us both," she said, being purposefully evasive.

"I'm sure I weigh ten times as much as you do and the bed is supporting my weight easily," Loki countered.

"Fine." Natasha hoisted herself up onto the bed before the conversation about her weight went any further. She swung her legs up and lay down next to Loki, letting him tuck the sheet in around her with his uninjured hand. "Happy?" she asked, with a sigh.

"Yes," Loki replied... And he did look genuinely happy too, which only made her chest ache all the more.

Loki's hand found Natasha's under the blankets and they lay like children would under an apple tree on a warm summer afternoon. They both closed their eyes and were silent for a long time.

"I don't want you to go," Natasha whispered finally, her voice heavy with the innocence and honesty that arrives on the borders of sleep.

"I know," Loki replied gently, and those were his last words before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Natasha slept, unplagued by nightmares, for an hour or so, then she stayed in Loki's bed until dawn, watching his eyes move behind his lids and his mouth twitch as he dreamed. When the lab was filled with a hazy, pinkish light she slid out from under the bed sheets, carefully rearranging them around Loki's sleeping form, and crept back to the lounge. Settling on the sofa, she laid her head on top of the hand that had held Loki's, feeling the warmth of his touch against her cheek.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: Deleted Scene**

"Pepper... tells me you've... got your appetite back..." Loki said, slurring his words slightly, his eyelids drooping.

"Yeah, I ate a whole pancake this morning," Natasha grinned, gently stroking his hair.

"Good... That's good..." Loki murmured, then his eyes rolled shut and his mouth hung slightly agape in sleep.

Natasha sat back with a sigh. Since his operation a few days ago Loki was struggling to stay awake for prolonged periods of time and he was sleeping thirteen or fourteen hours a night. During the day he had developed a habit of falling asleep mid-conversation. Bruce told her this was all to be expected as his body recovered from surgery, but still her heart sank a little every time he dropped off.

She looked up when the lounge doors opened and Bruce, Tony, and Pepper appeared. Natasha's melancholy wasn't lost on Pepper, who asked carefully: "Everything OK?"

"Yeah," Natasha replied, managing a smile. "He just keeps falling asleep on me."

"Now where have I heard that before?" Pepper said, turning to Tony, her hand jumping to her hip.

"What?" Tony said defensively.

"Well, if you will insist on purposefully waking me up at four in the morning when you come in from the lab, you should at least be able to follow through!"

"But if I sneak in without waking you, you yell at me in the morning anyway, so I can't win! But I try, therefore you shouldn't criticise me!"

"Oh no, because no one can ever criticise the great Tony Stark, even if he gets me up just to drool into my shoulder!"

"OK, well I'm fully awake now! Had an extra espresso shot in my coffee this morning and everything, so I'm good to go!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

And then Pepper grabbed hold of Tony's shirt collar and dragged him out of the lab and down the corridor. Their arms were suddenly wrapped around each other as they fell into the elevator. Bruce and Natasha stared after them with their mouths hanging open, their expressions stuck somewhere between awe and horror.

"That's got to be a world record for shortest time between argument and make-up sex," Bruce said finally.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Deleted Scene**

Natasha and Tony stepped from the elevator into the laboratory corridor and stopped. Peering into the lab, they saw Loki and Bruce surrounded by a haze of multi-coloured butterflies.

"Right..." Tony said slowly.

Natasha nudged him forward and they both entered the lab with a little trepidation. "What's all this?" Natasha asked, suppressing a laugh. She held out a finger and an electric blue butterfly settled on her fingertip. Its delicate wings had the look of stained glass as they fluttered in a slow, languid motion.

"Well, _someone_ didn't want to eat his dinner, so he turned it into butterflies," Bruce said with a bemused sigh as one of the new arrivals – which was a beautiful apple green – landed on his shoulder. "It's like treating Harry Potter when he was in diapers!"

"Your insults tend not to work on me, Doctor, because I don't understand the references," Loki said, clearly enjoying himself.

"You're like a very annoying, magical child," Bruce elaborated, rolling his eyes.

Tony muttered something inaudible.

"What was that?" Loki murmured, his expression sharpening.

"You can conjure anything you want and you go for all this 'My Little Pony' crap?" Tony said, flicking away a ruby-red butterfly that was hovering near his ear. "Couldn't you have at least conjured a Komodo dragon or something?"

"Dragon?" Loki whispered.

With a barely perceptible flick of his wrist, the butterfly Tony had just flicked transformed into a miniature dragon of the same size and colour with delicate, scaly wings. Tony gave it an unimpressed prod... And then it suddenly morphed into an enormous dragon's head, half the size of Tony, bright scarlet and breathing fire. Tony let out a yelp and staggered back against the glass wall, his eyes wide with shock. Natasha and Bruce erupted in fits of laughter and Loki simply grinned.

"That... was... hilarious!" Bruce wheezed in between laughs, his face flushed red.

Tony straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't that funny." The dragon's head dissolved in a shower of tiny gold stars, leaving the little ruby butterfly flapping in its place. Tony looked like he was about to crush it between finger and thumb.

"It was," Natasha said, smirking.

"I'd pay money to see that again," Bruce added.

"OK, OK! So, _Hermione_, before the doc wets himself, you wanna tell us why you didn't want dinner?" Tony asked, and Loki seemed to shrink a little in his bed, now everyone's attention had turned back to him.

"I find Midgardian food quite bland and tasteless," Loki answered, with a shrug. "It doesn't arouse my appetite."

Tony and Bruce looked horror-struck, as if he had just insulted their mothers, but Natasha chose a different tactic. She turned on her heel and headed towards the lab doors.

"Where are you going?" Bruce called after her.

"Grocery shopping!" she replied, as she disappeared down the corridor.

* * *

Natasha returned half an hour later clutching two large, brown paper bags. "You got rid of the butterflies," she commented on her way to the lounge.

"It's a shame, I was going to open a Stark Tower butterfly house and charge ten dollar entry," Tony said sadly.

"Tony!" Bruce scolded, as the two scientists followed Natasha into the lounge.

"Five dollars, then!" Tony retorted.

Natasha set her two grocery bags down on the kitchenette worktop and threw open the cupboards, rooting through them for everything she needed.

"So, what are you making?" Tony asked, hovering behind her.

"Mediterranean soup with a couple of twists. It's pretty much the only thing I know how to make."

"Can I help?"

"No."

Natasha set to work, chopping all the vegetables and simmering the tomato base over a low heat. She kept shooing Tony and Bruce away until they finally took a seat on the sofa and watched her as if she was presenting a cookery show. She added the final touches; freshly cut coriander and a tiny, lethal-looking chilli pepper.

"You're trying to convert him, not kill him, right?" Bruce asked, eyeing the pepper reproachfully.

"Well, no one's died from my cooking... yet," Natasha grinned, giving her soup a final stir. "OK, it's ready."

Natasha set the bowl of soup down in front of Loki and handed him a spoon. He looked reluctantly from the soup to Natasha. "Don't make me force-feed you," she said, smirking. "Because I will, complete with airplane noises!"

"Mmm! This is good! You should try it, Loki." Tony had appeared from the lounge, having helped himself to a bowl.

"It _is_ good, though." Bruce came to join Tony, also holding a bowl.

"Well, on that recommendation..." Loki said, with a small smile. He filled his spoon and lifted it to his lips.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Deleted Scene**

Loki was very quiet for most of the journey back from the dining area to his room. Natasha wished she _had_ stabbed her knife into the table between Tony's fingers – or better yet, stabbed it _through_ his finger... They reached the door to Loki's room; he opened it and they stepped inside. Natasha started; there, sitting next to Loki's bed, was her old rival. Tony's enormous leather armchair stared her down, wedged as it was between the wall and the bed.

"Erm... Two questions," Natasha said carefully, her eyes fixed on the brash, red-leather intruder. "_How_ did that get here? And _why_ is it here?"

"I conjured it from the lab on our walk back," Loki said, with a conspiratorial grin.

And then, in answer to Natasha's second question, he took her hand and led her to the armchair. Sitting down, he pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Natasha took her cue without comment and kissed him fiercely, smiling each time their lips parted, and dug her fingers into his hair. Loki's hands moved eagerly over her body; one hand slid down from her knee to her thigh, his fingers fanned out, as if to touch her as much as possible. The other hand felt the soft, warm pulse of her neck before slipping down, his fingers brushing the V of her chest, to toy with the zipper of her jacket.

Knowing what he wanted, and all too happy to oblige, Natasha switched position with cat-like agility; her lips never left his as she shifted so that she was straddling him, her thighs either side of his. Loki unzipped her jacket and she shrugged it off easily. His hands moved to her shoulders, then felt their way down the delicate arch of her back, and he sucked and nipped at the pale skin between her neck and collar bone.

Natasha tilted her head back with a low moan; she could have melted into him right there and then, but she was always one for spontaneity. She suddenly pulled away from his kisses and, in one smooth movement, slipped down between his knees onto the floor. She peered up at him with a mischievous grin and then slowly began to undo the buttons of his fly. Excellent, she thought, Tony is going to be _so_ pissed.

* * *

**COMING UP in Part Three: The team discover Natasha's ironic phobia, we find out what happened after Loki saw Natasha fall on the battlefield, and Loki joins Tony for a drink after Natasha throws a knife at his head.**


	3. Part Three

**A/N: Hello everyone! So my 21st birthday is coming up and out shopping with my mum I found a brown leather jacket that looked just like the one I'd envisioned for Natasha in Chapter Eight of HtMHF... And my mum bought me it for my birthday! Is it wrong to cosplay as something from your own fic? Anyway, here is Part Three, complete with a dose of unhinged Loki.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Deleted Scene**

It was approaching midnight when a gunshot rang out from the fifth floor of Stark Tower. Loki bolted into his bathroom and found Natasha standing in the corner, chest heaving, with her gun pointed at a spot by the bath... where a white tile had been shattered with a smoking, black scorch-mark at its centre.

"What's going on?" Loki breathed, looking incredulously from Natasha to the destroyed floor tile.

"There... There was a spider..." Natasha whispered, keeping her gun levelled at the blackened mess as if the spider might suddenly resurrect itself from the ashes.

"What?" Loki raised an eyebrow. "And where in Helheim did you get that gun?" As Natasha was standing there in only a tank top and shorts, Loki couldn't understand where she could have possibly produced it from.

"I, er, found it in the toilet cistern," Natasha replied guiltily.

"_Found it?_"

"Well, I kind of put it there a few days ago... Made a compartment to keep it dry... Just in case..."

"In case of what?" Loki snapped. "I dread to think how our first disagreement will play out!"

Natasha was about to make a snide remark when there was a knock at the door. Loki went to answer it and Natasha moved to the bathroom doorway. Opening the door, Loki found Tony, Thor, and Steve staring at him.

"Oh good," Tony said. "We thought Natasha had shot you."

"Not yet," Loki said wryly, glancing over his shoulder.

"What are you doing down here, Tony?" Natasha asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"I was just wrapping up a science lesson with blonde and blonder," Tony answered, nodding his head to indicate Thor and Steve. "So... what _was_ on the receiving end of your wrath?"

"A spider," Loki replied, before Natasha could stop him.

"You're joking?" Tony burst out laughing.

"It wasn't a spider, it was a frickin' tarantula, and it crawled on my foot!" Natasha said hotly.

"So you're the Black Widow, but you're scared of spiders?" Steve said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Ironyyy..." Tony sang.

And suddenly Natasha had her gun pointed at his head.

"Natasha, put that away!" Loki groaned. "OK, gentlemen, show's over for tonight I'm afraid." He shut the door in their faces without further comment and went to join Natasha, who was returning her gun to its cistern hideaway.

"I'm sorry about the tile," she said quietly.

"That's quite alright," Loki murmured. With a click of his fingers the smoking remains of the alleged tarantula disappeared and the tile healed its web of cracks. "So, how many weapons _are _you hiding in my room?"

"There's another gun suspended from the bed springs... and a knife tacked under the dressing table."

"Anything else?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Just in case?"

"Just in case."

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Deleted Scene**

"NATASHA!"

Her lips seemed to struggle around two syllables, then her wide eyes glazed over and she fell forward, slumping into the dust. Her curls of red hair covered her face and she didn't even twitch... She just lay there, face-down on the ground, with her limbs at awkward angles... And Loki knew she was dead.

It was like having his ribcage wrenched open and the strings of his soul ripped out. For a split second there was a feeling of black-hole emptiness; the very abyss he had once thrown himself into blossomed at his core... But then a thousand things rushed in to fill the void. He tore his eyes from Natasha's lifeless form to look up at The Other, who bared his scarlet-stained teeth in a bloodied, malevolent grin... And feelings of unrivalled hatred and anger, mingled with indescribable pain, erupted within him, bursting forth to every part of his being until his whole body shook with it...

Yet there was something else spreading with the pain, moving in sync with it through him... _Love_. His love for Natasha. And all of a sudden it was surging like wildfire through his veins, pumping from his heart, more powerful than any adrenaline rush... He could feel it pulsing to his finger tips and he knew this was no bodily chemical... this was magic. Magic he didn't even know he was capable of.

The Other raised the golden spear, preparing to strike... But then, with a terrifying roar, Loki's hands shot out and a blinding white light burst from his fingertips, obliterating The Other and his darkness. There was no cry, or crumple, or fade – The Other simply ceased to exist and the spear clattered to the ground at Loki's feet. Finding himself alone at the edge of the battlefield, Loki's arms dropped to his sides. He had done it... to avenge Natasha. Now his whole body felt heavy and numb. That piece of magic had left him feeling completely drained and the abyss returned. He was vaguely aware of the familiar wound slicing his forehead in two and the blood dribbling down his face, but he didn't care...

"She's alive!"

Loki snapped his head to the side and saw Steve kneeling by Natasha – the Chitauri soldier who had attacked her lay a few feet away with the captain's shield still wedged in his stomach. Steve had rolled Natasha over and had his fingers at her wrist. _Alive? _Loki scrambled up and the jerky movement made his skull feel like it was being split right down the middle, but still he bolted towards Natasha, his stomach sick with a relief mixed with dread. Throwing himself down at her side, he roughly shoved Steve away with a growl and gathered her up in his arms. Her body was as limp as a ragdoll and her face was drained of colour; her lips were a deathly shade of white. Blood from her shoulder stained his armour and dripped down his arm.

"Natasha," he choked, holding her closer, tears blurring his vision. A dense, poisonous fog was beginning to cloud his mind and he was struggling to fight against the fear and confusion that came with it... He desperately tried to remember his healing spells, but they all evaded recall, and he wasn't sure if he had any magic left in him anyway...

Steve had been staring at him, massaging the shoulder where he had pushed him aside, but now he moved forward, his hands reaching for Natasha. "Loki..."

Loki let out a snarl in response and shrank away from him. He didn't want anyone touching Natasha, and he was sure as long as he was clinging to her, she would stay alive. Some baser animal instincts were taking over and he felt himself regressing into the madness he thought he had finally escaped.

"Thor! Tony! I need you over..." Steve's voice was drowned out by the deafening roar of propellers as a dozen black helicopters swept over their heads.

They hovered like flies for a few seconds, then dropped down into the wasteland, sending out rippling waves of brown dust. Loki instinctively hunched over Natasha, shielding her from the gusts. He stayed in this protective position as shouts echoed around him until the voices became dangerously close. Straightening up, he found four or five S.H.I.E.L.D. agents crowded around him, pushing their faces into his, their hands poised to grab Natasha from him. He growled in warning, pulling Natasha closer to his chest, but they kept coming.

"Hey! Back up, morons!"

Tony pushed through the throng of agents and turned to them with a glare. "Are you all deaf? I said back up, give the guy some space!"

The agents reluctantly withdrew and Steve stayed at a wary distance. Loki eyed Tony suspiciously, but didn't say anything.

"Bruce! Have you calmed down yet? We could use you over here!" Tony yelled over his shoulder.

Loki didn't have time to react before the doctor appeared at Tony's side, wearing only a pair of torn khaki pants. The sight of Dr. Banner was comforting and Loki recognised him as someone he could trust, but still the fog in his mind was getting thicker...

"He's going into shock," the doctor whispered to Tony, before turning back to Loki. "Loki, I just want to check Natasha's pulse, OK?" he said carefully, keeping his hands by his sides, not reaching for her as everyone else had done. Loki nodded. Bruce placed two fingers just below Natasha's jaw. "Yep, I've got a pulse, but it's faint..." His hand hovered over her nose and mouth. "Still breathing..." The doctor looked up, his face filled with concern. "OK, Loki, listen to me... Natasha is in a very serious condition and if we don't treat her, she's not going to make it. You understand that, don't you?"

The news only made Loki clutch Natasha tighter, fear dancing in his bright green eyes, but he nodded again.

"Will you please give her to me?" Dr. Banner asked gently, opening his arms to take her. "You know I only want to help her."

Loki was so focused on the doctor and Natasha's limp form in his arms that he failed to notice the stretcher being set up behind them. As soon as he reluctantly relinquished Natasha into Dr. Banner's waiting arms, she was swept away from him, lifted onto the stretcher by Dr. Banner and Tony, and then she disappeared in a crowd of black-clad agents who carried her off towards the nearest helicopter.

"No!" Loki called after them, staggering to his feet. His head throbbed painfully and all of a sudden the world was spinning. He took an awkward step forward, but strong hands appeared from nowhere and stopped him falling.

"Brother, you're hurt!"

Loki tried to shrug Thor off with a growl and lurched towards the helicopter which Natasha had just been loaded into, but Thor kept a firm hold of him.

"They have another prepared for us, Loki, come!"

Loki managed to break free from Thor's grip, but he only got a few feet before he stumbled, the pain in his head weighing him down. Thor was at his side in an instant and slipped Loki's arm around his shoulder to support him. Feeling drained in every way possible, Loki gave in and let Thor half-carry him to their waiting helicopter.

Closing his eyes, he allowed Thor to strap him into his seat. He was used to his brother treating him like a special case, so he didn't protest. He kept his eyes firmly shut as he felt the ground disappear from under them and the helicopter soared upwards. Over the roar of the propellers he heard snatches of conversation from the piloting agents: "... Brazil... Barton told them everything..."

Loki's eyes flew open. _Barton!_ "I should have killed him when I had the chance!" Loki snarled, struggling against his belts. "I'm going to rip him limb from limb!"

"Brother, please, calm yourself!" Thor begged - his face flushed with embarrassment - as if trying to subdue a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket.

"I'll crack open his ribcage like a kernel shell and drag out his beating heart and wait until it's dead and cold in my hand!"

The agents didn't react; this was obviously what they expected from him and they kept their eyes on the sky. Loki felt himself falling further into a familiar insanity, consumed by his ravings. The fog in his mind was starting to obscure his vision and his tongue felt heavy as he spat out his threats... But his last thoughts were of Natasha; not lying in the dust, but smiling at him with fire in her eyes and colour in her cheeks as she pulled away from his kiss, and then the darkness closed in around him.

* * *

There was a voice circling above him and Loki tried desperately to open his eyes, but it felt like trying to prise open two bolted doors. He waited, focusing on his breathing, until finally his lids were able to flutter open. White light flooded his vision, drowning out the hum of the voice, and he peered around the room; it had the brightness and sparsity of Bruce's lab, but without the associations of comfort. He was lying on top of the sheets of a narrow bed, his head resting on a stack of soft pillows. Reaching up to his forehead, he felt the prickle of stitches beneath his fingers.

"Loki?"

Loki turned sharply to his right and found Thor at his bedside. He carefully hauled himself into a sitting position; Thor leapt up to stop him, but a glare made him shrink away. At first there was a complete absence of memory, and then everything crashed down on him at once. "Natasha," he breathed, his chest aching, fearing the worst. "Where is she?"

"They are keeping her in the special care unit of the infirmary," Thor explained gently. "She is doing well."

The relief that swept over Loki almost knocked him back down into his pillows, and he sighed happily. "Where are we?" he asked, surveying the room again.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. Head Quarters," Thor answered. "Natasha is just down the hall. Would you like me to take you to her?"

Loki nodded and swung his legs over the side of the bed, the movement making him feel dizzy... The pain in his head returned and he half-remembered feelings of madness, as if they came from a recurring nightmare, not memory. He realised when Natasha had fallen the insanity had threatened to take over again... Now he felt as if he were suffering a hangover from psychosis. Thor was watching him intently, but he pretended not to notice. He lowered his feet onto the floor.

Thor moved towards a wheelchair by the door. "Don't even think about it," Loki said sharply, and that kicked-dog expression immediately appeared... The one Natasha had once scolded him over... "Sorry," he murmured. "I... I just think I can manage by myself..."

Thor gave him a small smile. "Of course, brother."

Loki followed Thor down the corridor and into a separate wing which seemed to extend infinitely into the distance with doors on either side. It was a long trek to Natasha's room and as Loki counted the thirtieth door, his pounding head heavy on his shoulders, his thoughts wandered back to the wheelchair in his room... But finally Thor stopped and knocked on a door with its white blind drawn.

"Come in!" came the reply, and Loki recognised Bruce's voice.

Thor opened the door and ushered Loki in. "I brought a visitor!" he said brightly.

It seemed all the Avengers had assembled at Natasha's bedside, and they leapt up to greet Loki as he entered. He smiled in reply, unsure of what else to say to them; but they understood and parted so that he could take a seat by Natasha's bed. Her body was covered in a tangle of wires and tubes, with her left shoulder heavily bandaged, but she looked peaceful in sleep. The colour had returned to her lips and her cheeks held a rosy tint. Her red hair was fanned out on the pillow like a fiery halo, and she looked as beautiful as ever. Exhaling for what felt like the first time in days, he took her hand and squeezed it gently, vowing never to let go until she had woken up.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Deleted Scene**

Loki stormed down the corridor to the elevator and smashed his hand down on the button. The almost-immediate chime made him jump as the doors opened. He threw himself inside and didn't hesitate before punching his clenched fist into the back wall, his knuckles leaving a row of dints in the metal.

"Trouble with the missus?"

Spinning around, Loki started. Tony was standing in the corner of the elevator, eyeing the damage he had just inflicted and no doubt totting up the cost of repairing it - yet there was a hint of sympathy in his smile.

"Yes," Loki answered finally, avoiding Tony's gaze.

"Push your button?"

"Excuse me?" Loki looked to see Tony's finger hovering over the elevator keypad.

"Where you heading?" he elaborated.

"My room," Loki replied curtly.

"You sure you don't want to come upstairs for a drink?" Tony murmured. "You look like you could use one."

Loki sighed and weighed up his options. He wanted to be alone, but if he returned to the fifth floor there was a strong possibility he would run into Thor; the last thing he needed was his brother's soppy tales about Jane Foster and overcoming adversity. If he joined Tony in his penthouse suite he would also be putting twelve floors between himself and his knife-wielding, scorned lover. "Alright," he said quietly.

* * *

Loki took a seat at the bar and Tony set down two glass tumblers, stacked with ice. He produced a bottle of Scotch and Loki recognised it as the same whiskey he had been offered when he asked for _that_ drink some months ago.

Tony poured out two equally generous helpings. "So..." he said, drawing out the syllable. "Natasha hasn't taken the news of your departure very well?"

"She threw a knife at my head," Loki answered, taking a gulp of whiskey and shivering as it burned his throat.

"Ah, well she always was a bundle of joy," Tony grinned, sipping his own whiskey.

"Loki?" Pepper had appeared from the study. She came to join them at the bar.

"We have a refugee," Tony said, raising his glass to Loki.

"Hey." Pepper gave Loki a knowing smile.

Loki had learnt that Pepper was acutely intelligent and missed nothing. Like Tony, there was sympathy in her smile, but he was still wary of the fact that she and Natasha were close. Grabbing her own glass, Pepper reached for the Scotch.

"Erm... What are you doing?" Tony asked. "I know you've been helping yourself to my Scotch, Pep. You've got a problem."

"Pot, kettle, Tony," Pepper sighed, pouring herself a glass.

"Don't make yourself at home, we don't need your input," Tony said, looking affronted at Pepper's intrusion.

"Tony, you have the emotional capacity of pancake batter," Pepper replied pointedly. "Trust me, you do need my input." She turned to Loki. "How's Natasha?"

"She threw a knife at his head," Tony supplied.

Pepper studied Loki for a long time, then said softly: "But it missed, right?"

"Yes."

"Natasha never misses. If she'd wanted to hit you, she would've done."

Loki stayed quiet. He knew Pepper was right, but the knife wasn't the real issue. He hadn't been offended by Natasha's desire to kill him, whether it was meant or not. He understood why she was upset, but he couldn't do or say anything to convince her that he wasn't completely apathetic towards the situation... and she wouldn't believe that he was leaving because he _had_ to, not because he _wanted_ to.

"You know I wouldn't make this decision lightly, Pepper," Loki whispered. "You all saw how I behaved when Natasha was injured."

"You should have seen her reaction when your heart stopped beating during surgery," Pepper replied, studying him intently. She was clearly going to be playing devil's advocate this evening.

"I don't know what to do," Loki admitted, staring dejectedly into the dregs of icy Scotch left in his glass.

"You will," Pepper said slowly. "Before the night is out."

* * *

There was a sharp knock at the door. Loki sat bolt upright in bed. He had been waiting for that sound for hours, so much so he couldn't quite believe he'd heard it. With his heart thumping rapidly in his ribcage, he went to the door and opened it. Natasha stood there, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and she peered up at him, her eyes shining with everything she couldn't say, her mouth slightly agape with the words that would never come.

Within seconds she had her arms around his neck and her lips pressed fiercely against his, heavy with remorse. Their lips parted only for a second as he slipped his arm under her knees and swept her up, just as he had done the first time they made love. He carried her to the bed and it was a night without words; only sighs and moans and growled gutturals. They spoke with their fingers, reading each other like Braille. Their bodies moved endlessly in perfect synchronisation, and when he finally parted himself from her it was with the greatest regret and reluctance.

And as they lay together in the bed afterwards, limbs entwined with her head on his chest, Loki knew Pepper was right. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

**COMING UP: The alternate ending – have your tissues at the ready guys, writing it was an act of masochism!**


	4. Part Four

**A/N: Hey guys, so here is the fourth and final part of the collection: the alternate ending. I honestly don't know what possessed me to write this, and apologies in advance for the angst overload. And should you wish to make your reading experience even more depressing, you should listen to 'Running Up That Hill' by Kate Bush.**

**WARNING: Character death.**

* * *

"_And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, _

_and I'd get him to swap our places."_

* * *

"NATASHA!"

Her lips seemed to struggle around two syllables, then her wide eyes glazed over and she fell forward, slumping into the dust. Her curls of red hair covered her face and she didn't even twitch... She just lay there, face-down on the ground, with her limbs at awkward angles... And Loki knew she was dead.

It was like having his ribcage wrenched open and the strings of his soul ripped out. He was consumed by a feeling of black-hole emptiness; the very abyss he had once thrown himself into blossomed at his core. There was nothing left for him in all the Nine Realms, not now she was gone. And he couldn't face the ages of these worlds without her. This was Ragnarök: the end of his world. He felt nothing... only a desire for death. For then there was a frail flicker of hope that he might somehow be reunited with her.

He tore his eyes away from Natasha's lifeless body to look up at The Other, who returned a bloodied, malevolent grin. Loki's last thoughts were of Natasha as The Other plunged the golden spear into his throat.

* * *

"NATASHA!"

Thor's head whipped to the side, following the sound of his brother's voice, and he saw Natasha fall; a Chitauri soldier stood over her clutching a bloodied blade. Loki was lying in the dust a few feet away, The Other towering over him with Loki's golden spear, poised to strike.

"Loki!" Thor cried, swinging Mjolnir at the warrior who blocked his path, knocking his head clean off his shoulders in a spray of black blood. As he vaulted over the crumpling, grey body, he saw Loki turn back to The Other, his eyes dead with defeat... And then The Other sank the spear into Loki's neck.

"NO!" If he hadn't taken flight, Thor was certain his knees would have given way beneath him, but he leapt into the air, his vision bathed in blood, with his hammer raised above his head to the clouds that roared and spat lightning behind him.

With an almighty, strangled howl, Thor brought Mjolnir down upon The Other, who had been too distracted by his good work to react in time. Thor struck blow, after blow, after blow, grinding The Other into dust beneath his hammer, which fell heavier than ever before, loaded as it was with Thor's agony.

When only the shreds of black cloak were left, Thor threw Mjolnir aside and rushed to Loki, gathering his brother up in his arms. Loki's shivering torso was soaked in the blood pumping from the gaping wound in his neck, and his white face was smeared red with the blood dribbling from his mouth. Loki twitched and convulsed in Thor's arms, his wide, green eyes staring up desperately into Thor's.

"Loki..." Thor choked, tears spilling down his cheeks, splashing onto Loki's scarlet-stained armour. "Stay with me, brother, please!" he begged.

Loki opened his mouth, but only the grizzly gurgle of blood-corrupted lungs came out and his head jerked back with each laboured breath.

"She's alive!"

Thor looked up to find Steve kneeling by Natasha, his fingers at her wrist. "Do you hear that, brother?" Thor laughed. "... Brother?"

Loki's green eyes were glassy and stared vacantly past Thor into the blackening sky above them. His chest no longer rose and fell, and he was still in Thor's arms.

"Loki?" Thor whispered, gently shaking him. "Loki! No! ... Help, somebody, please!"

Tony dropped to the ground in front of them, but said nothing. He pulled up his red and gold helmet, revealing his face, which was solemn and pained. The doctor had regained his human form and was crouching by Natasha. Both he and Steve looked towards Loki and the doctor hung his head, closing his eyes. They all knew it was too late.

Thor let out another terrifying, wounded howl and clutched Loki to his chest, wrapping his arms around him. With tears pouring down his face and his whole body shaking with sobs, Thor gently began to rock the cold, bloodied body of his fallen brother.

Thunder echoed all around them like the hooves of a thousand terrible horses and a dagger of white lightning shattered the heart of the gathering, black clouds.

* * *

Natasha lurched bolt upright in the bed, a scream stuck in her throat. The white light was everywhere, closing in on her in this cold, unfamiliar room. She felt as if she were chained down; there were clear plastic tubes coiled around her left arm and wires tacked to her chest.

"Natasha...?"

The voice jolted her further into unwelcoming reality. Turning sharply to her right she found Bruce and Tony standing at her bedside, their stances wary. Their faces looked tired and grey; Bruce clearly hadn't shaved in a while and that thought made her stomach turn, she wondered how long she'd been out of it.

"Bruce? Tony?" she whispered, peering around the bright, sparsely furnished room. "Where am I?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. head quarters," Tony answered carefully.

Natasha stared at them. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife and they were obviously waiting for something... A glint of gold from the embossed title of the book on her bedside table caught her eye and flicked a switch in her mind; the memories filled the void like a noxious gas... Brooklyn... the Chitauri... Loki lying in the dust with The Other holding the golden spear to his throat... and... a burning ache spread from her shoulder, but she ignored the pain and looked wildly at the two scientists.

"Loki... where is he?"

Bruce and Tony exchanged despairing glances, then Bruce looked at the floor.

"You tell me where he is, Bruce!" Natasha growled, tears flooding her eyes. "TELL ME!"

Bruce met her gaze. "He didn't make it," he murmured, his own voice cracking.

"NO!" It was as if Bruce's words had ripped her heart right out of her chest, leaving her with a gaping black hole blossoming inside her ribcage with the rest of her being slowly dragged into it. She was a dying star, collapsing in on herself. She crumpled forward, but Tony moved to her side and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest.

"I'm so sorry, kid... I am so, so sorry..."

Natasha's desperate cries echoed around the white room and the longer Tony held her, the louder and more tormented they became. She kept her face pressed against Tony's chest – the arc reactor that shone through his shirt was cool and hard – and her fingers fiercely clutched at the fabric, like she feared if she let go she would fade away completely.

* * *

"Where's Thor?"

Natasha was sitting in bed with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. She had been staring at her feet, but when Bruce took a while to answer she turned to glare at him.

"He's taken Loki's body back to Asgard," the doctor said quietly.

Natasha closed her eyes, her mouth twisting in a silent cry. "He... He could've waited..."

Bruce stayed silent. His brown eyes were distant and he slumped in his chair, looking exhausted.

"He blames me," Natasha stated flatly, looking out of the small, dark window to her left.

"I never said that."

"But he does!" Natasha snapped, turning her eyes back to Bruce. "He blames me for what happened, and now he's taken Loki away from me before I even had chance to... to say goodbye."

* * *

_"Tony, put the camcorder away!"_

_"What? This is a special moment; Loki's first steps. I thought you'd want it documented?"_

_"You just want him to face-plant so you can put it on Youtube!"_

Natasha stared at the television screen through a haze of tears, pushing her back against the wall. She'd vetoed the bed on account of it offering too much comfort for what she was about to do, so she was sitting on the floor next to the bed in the corner furthest from the door. The picture on the screen shook as Tony put the camcorder down on the bench, but it kept recording. I knew he hadn't turned it off, Natasha thought bitterly. Everyone in Stark Tower had gone to great pains to strip the building of Loki's presence in preparation for Natasha's return, but search and rescue was part of her skill-set; she'd found the disc wedged in the bottom drawer of Tony's desk. 'Loki's First Steps' was scrawled across the silver surface in black marker pen. She wondered why Tony had kept it.

"_Thor and I won't let you fall... Now try not to look at your feet. Look straight ahead, just take it slow."_

Her own voice sent shivers down her spine. Then Loki looked right into the camera and for a few seconds the screen was filled with his bright green eyes, burning into her. That was her cue. Natasha picked up the gun from the floor at her side and, her finger curling round the trigger, put the barrel into her mouth.

"NO, NATASHA!"

Bruce burst into the room. The gun slipped from Natasha's mouth as Bruce vaulted over the bed and landed in front of her. Snatching the gun from her hands, he threw it across the room; it smacked into the opposite wall and clattered to the floor.

"I can't... I can't do it anymore..." Natasha whimpered, her hands hovering over her knees, shaking violently.

Bruce sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her hair. "I know... I know what that feels like..." Tears prickled his own eyes and he held Natasha tighter. He hadn't missed the warning signs in her that morning; the dull look in her eyes, her twitchy, defensive behaviour... He shouldn't have left her alone for a second. And as soon as he'd thrown open the door he'd seen himself crouching there with the gun. He never wanted anyone else to have to go through what he had, and he daren't think about what might have happened if he hadn't decided to check on Natasha.

"_... you're almost at the lounge doors... I'm so proud of you!"_

Bruce felt Natasha flinch and he looked up to see Loki looming on the television screen, larger than life. He instantly recognised his lab and the event... Repeatedly telling Tony to get rid of the disc hadn't worked; Tony still had hope that one day Natasha would ask him for it and it would be a comfort to her. Bruce reached for the remote lying on the bed and hastily switched it off. Now the only sound was Natasha's choked sobbing.

He wasn't sure how long they had been sitting there when she finally quietened. She lifted her head from his chest and peered around the room. "I keep forgetting," she said, her voice raw from crying. "I keep waiting for him to come back."

Bruce leant back against the wall. "I miss him too, you know," he said quietly. "He really grew on me."

They were both silent for a long time. Natasha stopped shaking and her hands came to rest on the floor, but Bruce could still feel her manic heartbeat throbbing against his chest. She kept her head on his shoulder, her tears darkening his shirt.

"What did Loki say to you, just before you put him under for his operation?" Bruce asked finally.

Natasha studied him curiously. She guessed where this was going, but still answered: "He told me not to throw my life away if he died."

"Exactly."

"But he did!" Natasha cried, pulling away from Bruce to lean against the bed. "He threw _his _life away! ... Because of me." She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, her face flushing red – she didn't want to be reminded of the hypocrisy of it all.

"I know," Bruce replied sadly. "But Loki was never one to take his own advice, you know that. And you're so young, Natasha. If you turn up in the afterlife now, you and Loki are going to be engaged in a domestic for eternity!"

"You really believe in an afterlife?" Natasha murmured.

"What did Loki believe in?" Bruce said, dodging the question.

"He thought he was going to Helheim."

"Helheim won't be able to handle him," Bruce said, with a grin. "He'll have found his way to Valhalla by now."

Natasha was stunned by Bruce's faith; she'd always had him down as a fellow hardened atheist, made that way by science and circumstance. "So... are you going to put me in a padded cell?" she asked wearily, changing the subject.

"No... We'll keep this, er, _incident_, between us, but only if you promise me never to try it again."

Natasha caught Bruce's eye, then quickly looked away again. She couldn't promise... Surely he of all people knew that?

"I know, OK?" he sighed. "I know... But can I just tell you one thing? The... _the_ _Other Guy_ spitting out that bullet was the best thing that ever happened to me. If he hadn't... I would never have come here, and met you, Tony, Steve... Thor... or been part of a team... felt like I belonged somewhere... It gets better, Natasha. I promise you, it gets better."

Natasha had no idea how to answer him. She'd heard him talk about his suicide attempt only once – on the hellicarrier six months ago, and even then he'd only said it in the heat of the moment. Bruce had always been so shy and reserved when it came to his personal life, especially the darker side of it. She knew he wouldn't be confiding such things to her now unless he genuinely cared and meant every word of it. She found herself in awe of his courage and his honesty... Bruce was someone who had pulled himself back from the brink and, despite her pain and the utter blackness of the situation, his words stirred something within her. She felt a flicker of hope, fluttering at her core, valiantly trying to beat back the relentless ache.

"Just don't give up... please," Bruce whispered. "But if you won't do it for me, or even for yourself... Do it for Loki."

Natasha exhaled, still looking into her lap. Then she lifted her gaze to meet Bruce's and nodded. "For Loki."

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry we had to end this on such a morbid note, though I should point out the original draft for the alternate ending finished with "...put the barrel into her mouth", but that was just too black altogether! I just want to say an enormous thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favourited – you've helped keep HtMHF alive for a little longer! My whole summer has pretty much been dedicated to writing this fic and its extras and now I'm absolutely gutted it's over!**

**I return to university this week and it's my final year so I'm not going to have a lot of time on my hands. BUT I do have a few ideas for Natasha/Loki one-shots, so please keep your eyes peeled for those! And again, thank you to every single person who has supported me this summer, you have no idea how happy you've made me!**


End file.
